Dear Augustus
by 123lovestory
Summary: Hazel tries to deal with Augustus's death by writing him letters about her life, as she learns to live again, in the midst of learning to die. Hazel eventually joins Augustus in Somewhere, and their infinity picks back up again.
1. Augustus

Dear Augustus,

My parents thought support group wasn't enough. Apparently spending an hour in The Literal Heart of Jesus once a week wasn't enough to cope with your death. So now I have a therapist, yet another thing my parents can't afford. Seeing my therapist and having to talk about you just makes me more depressed. And every day when I'm done with my therapy session all I want to do is talk to you. But I can't do that. So instead I'm writing you, a dead person in capitol S-Somewhere. Okay?

You know, your death was worse on Isaac than the whole Monica thing was. He doesn't even play Counterinsurgence any more. Sometimes we visit your grave together, but it's always a bit depressing to realize that two cancer kids, one blind and one with crap lungs, are in a graveyard. The metaphorical opportunities are endless with two dying kids in a graveyard, but I prefer the realization that I'm visiting the place I'm on my way to, but I'm not there yet. You know, with or without Isaac, I go there every day. So do your parents, only they cry a lot more and a lot louder.

It's not that I _don't_ cry, it's just that I don't do it at your grave. As cruel as it may sound, your grave doesn't really trigger much emotion for me. We never went there together, we never laughed there, we never kissed there, we never said okay there. It's places where we did those things together that make me cry. Which is a lot of places, just so you know. But I'm getting better. I really am.

Today I went to lunch with Kaitlyn. Yet another thing The Therapist My Parents Can't Afford thought I should do. PA (pre-Augustus) I would go to the mall with her, but AA (after Augustus) I'm just too tired. It's not that I'm any sicker or anything, I just get too sad, which is very tiring. Anyway, she told me something interesting. She has a friend who goes to your old school, who said that they've renamed the gym after you, because, "you loved basketball _so much._" I thought you'd think that's funny.

I don't really know what else to tell you. It's been 29 days since you died, and I really haven't done anything. I've visited your grave 29 times. I've thought about you more times than I can count. I can't put a real number to how many times I've cried, because it's more of a continual stream than an off and on thing. Isaac says that I'm living in the wake of our infinity. I'm okay with that, because the wake of a boat is like a memory of what was there only moments before. So if I can live in the memory of our infinity, I'm okay. Okay?

I love you. Thank you for our infinity. Okay,

Hazel Grace


	2. Coping

Dear Augustus,

The days aren't too bad anymore, it's the nights that are bad. Something about the sun being absent allows our darkest fears to come out, crumbling down on us like an unexpected tsunami.

When I wake up every night sobbing and calling your name, there's not much my parents can do to help me. There's not much_ anyone_ can do to help me. So my parents bring me warm milk, make sure Philip is working, and try to go back to bed after hearing their cancerous daughter screaming the name of a dead boy in the middle of the night.

And then I follow my nightly routine of failing to cope. First, I cry. For a long time. And just when the crying is almost done, some memory brings a whole new wave of pain. After I've cried all the tears my eyes can produce, I call you. Unfortunately, you never pick up. So I listen to your voicemail.

"You've reached the voice mail of Augustus Waters. Leave a message." So, I leave a message per your instructions.

"Hey, Augustus. It's Hazel Grace. I guess your not here right now. Hope to see you soon. Wait for me. Love you. Okay."

Your phone must have a lot of messages built up on it. But that's okay. Your parents still can't deal with going into your room, so they'll never hear all the messages.

So after I've tried calling you, I read the letter you wrote Peter Van Houten. I've never showed your letter to anyone. I keep it hidden in a picture frame, behind a picture of us is Amsterdam. Those words belong to our infinity. And even though it was written to Van Houten, they're mine. I'm just selfish like that.

This is the point where I fall back into bed to toss and turn. Sometimes tears make reappearance, and sometimes they don't. Our little infinity plays over and over in my mind until the morning, or until I fall into a sort of sleeplike state.

Today was a good day, my first one in a long time. Today I went to your house. I was going to go to your grave, but when I got into the car, something made me turn left, not right.

I talked to your parents for a good hour. We talked about you, and they showed me pictures of you when you were little while sharing stories. You were a very cute little boy. Of course, not as cute as you are now, but still.

It sounds like reliving all those memories may have been sort of sad, but it wasn't. Being with your parents and sharing your story made me happy. I even laughed at some of their stories about you as a kid. You were just as funny and confident then as you are now.

Your parents seem to be doing okay. They certainly aren't back to normal, I don't think they will ever be able to return to their PA state, but their coping. Maybe someday they'll even be able to enter your room again.

When I was done talking to your parents, I went to your old room. Augustus, I've been into your room multiple times since your death, but this time was different. As awful as this may sound, the closer I get to my own death, the more content I become with yours. With each passing day I'm closer to joining you in capitol-S Somewhere and that's a strange feeling. I don't want to die. I don't want to hurt my parents like that; I don't want to fulfill my destiny as a grenade. But at the same time, I want (need) to join you again.

And that was what I realized as I roamed through your room. Augustus, I'm ready to join you. I'm not ready to leave, but I'm ready to join you. So as my emotions collide, I feel strangely content. Maybe it's all my drugs. I don't know.

After I roamed around your room, looking at your collection of video games and books, smelling your scent, and steeling a couple of you-scented shirts from your drawers, I came to your bed. My memory of the first time I was ever in your room flashed into my mind. That night I had been tired from standing so much. I had sat down on your bed while you talked about throwing 80 free throws I a row, the weekend before you had your leg amputated. It was also the night you gave me _The Price of Dawn_, and I told you about _An Imperial Affliction_, which eventually led to our trip to Amsterdam.

Just like I did that first night, I sat down on the edge of your bed. Which led to me realizing just how _tired_ I was. Which led to me just lying down for a second. And then, of course, I realized just how _cold_ I was. Eventually I was curled up in your you-scented bed. I slept curled up in your bed, the first time that I slept soundly for a long time. Lying there, surrounded by the things that were the artifacts of your life, I felt like your dying wasn't okay, per se, but it wasn't a travesty. It's hard to explain. It was like this- you lived a great life, and you had a beautiful infinity. You had an amazing family. And yes, our infinity was cut short, but at least it happened. Okay?

Today, for the first time since you died, I felt like I was swimming through your wake, not floating through it. I was remembering you, not living in your memory. And that was so much better.

So you see, Augustus, today was my day of _realizing. _Realizing how I _want_ to join you in capitol-S Somewhere, but I'm so afraid to. Realizing that not only was our infinity gorgeous, but it _happened_. And that's so much better than you dying having, never experienced our infinity. But most of all, realizing that coping isn't just surviving; it's learning to live again.

I love you. Thank you for our infinity. Okay,

Hazel Grace


	3. Remembering

Dear Augustus,

I miss you Gus, and not in the obligatory manner that you might miss a grandma you saw twice a year. I miss saying "Okay," to you every third word. I miss kissing you and pressing my head against your soft polos, which you have an unrealistic amount of. I miss being weird with you, and talking about _An Imperial Affliction._ I miss laughing at your constant jokes and admiring your dashing face. I miss your gentlemanly offers to carry my oxygen tank and your heroic deaths for me in Counterinsurgence. I miss every little (and big) thing about you. But I'm healing. I really am. Okay?

I see you in the tiniest things. It's like when you learn a new word, and all of a sudden people are using it all over the place, when in fact you just never noticed it before. I remember you when I see kids playing on any old playground, because those kids start me on an unstoppable train of thought, until I reach the final destination of the our picnic at _Funky Bones_, where all the kids were climbing all over the bones. Then the unpredictable Train Of Thought, that controls my head like Kim Jong Un does North Korea, starts rolling down the track again, starting off slow and then speeding up until I have to gasp for air, until it reaches its new destination that was picked based of the last one. So you see, my dear Augustus, even an insignificant bug on the side of the road can lead me back to you.

The thing about death is that no one ever remembers the heroic people that live. In order to be remembered, you have to go away. So, when an untrained civilian rushes into a burning building to save a room of trapped schoolchildren, and comes out just as unharmed as the kids, no one remembers him. It's when that same person goes into the building to do the same deed and saves the kids, but not himself, that he gets a statue erected in his honor.

Augustus, the fact that you used to see the metaphorical resonances in everything is the reason I have all these somewhat philosophical thoughts churning in my head all the time. I've only shared a few of them with you, but you could make a whole book out of my rants on memories and death. I can imagine that it's actually quite annoying for the Therapist My Parents Can't Afford.

TMPCA: How are you doing today, Hazel?

Me: Fine.

TMPCA: Did you do anything since I last saw you? Did you do something outside of the house, like I suggested?

Me: Yes, actually. I went to my dead boyfriends grave.

TMPCA: Other than that, I mean.

Me: I went to lunch with Kaitlyn.

TMPCA: Wonderful! Did anything eventful happen? Anything you want to talk about?

Me: Actually, yes. We ate at a Greek restaurant, which reminded me of a game I used to play with Augustus called Counterinsurgence, where they once fought in Greek ruins, which reminded me of how no one heroic is remembered unless they die, which made me realize that Gus was perfectly heroic, he just never got a real chance to prove it, and if he had been given a chance he would have been heroic in real life, and so if he had heroism _potential_, shouldn't we give him a statue? Which made me remember how when I die, any real memory of our infinity will die with me, so basically when I die everything that matters is going to die too, and how in a couple hundred years no one is going to remember anything about me and Augustus, so basically I don't matter because I'm just going to die and become a part of the oblivion of forgotten people.

TMPCA: You seam to fear not being remembered, and what will happen when you die…

Me: I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of hurting my parents.

TMPCA: But you don't want to die, correct?

Me: I'm content with the fact that my days are numbered and I can't do anything to change that.

TMPCA: You still have a life to live, even if it won't be quite as long as other people.

Me: Okay.

I don't know how capitol- S Somewhere works, but I like to think that you can look down at us and see what we're doing. And if you can, I don't want you to feel bad for the way I'm living. You know, from my letters, that I _am_ getting better. But I'm not better yet. That's going to take time. I'm learning to live again without you, but I'm also learning to die. As time drags me further from the day I slipped a pack of cigarettes into your coffin, I'm getting better emotionally, but worse physically. There's only one cure to the sickness that is Emotion. No matter how deep the dagger of Emotion is embedded into you, only time will heal your wound. Emotion is the thing that gives us passion and makes us strong, but it's also the thing that allows our weakness to flow forth from our faults like wails from a baby.

I haven't really talked much about my physical state, only my emotional one. I'm getting weaker every day. The pain in my shoulder has returned, but there's also a new one on my lower left abdomen. I have a PET scan tomorrow. Wish me luck. Okay?

I love you. Thank you for our infinity. Okay,

Hazel Grace


	4. Drowning

Dear Augustus,

I wonder if you can miss people in capitol-S Somewhere. I know that everyone here misses you, but we can't see you or anything about you. In Somewhere, can you see us? Because if you can, it has to be _a lot_ worse for you than for us. You have so many people to miss, but us living people, we only have you to miss. So it has to be worse for you. But it's going to get better soon. Because Phalanxifor isn't working anymore, and soon I'll be joining you in capitol-S Somewhere. I've only got a matter of months.

To say that my PET scan a couple days ago was bad, would be an understatement. It was abominable. That's right, it was abominable. The tumors in my lungs are growing rapidly, and Phalanxifor isn't doing a thing to stop them. The fluid in my shit lungs (They have upgraded from crap to shit) is going to drown me over the course of the next few months. I'm not going to make it past New Years. That gives me roughly four months to drown.

Do me a favor and don't watch me die. I wouldn't mind a bit if you just stopped looking down on me, and started waiting for me, instead. Because let me tell you, watching someone die isn't fun. We've both spent our fair share of time in hospitals, where people die everyday, but it's another thing when it's someone you love. Once those images of them dying are in your head, they will never leave, especially when it's slow and painful. I don't want you to have images of me weak and gasping for air in your head, so just don't watch. I've been on deaths doorstep before, when I was fourteen, and I can go ahead and tell you that it isn't sexy, or hot, or even remotely pretty. So just don't. Okay?

I love you. Thank you for our infinity. Okay,

Hazel Grace


	5. Okay

Dear Hazel Grace,

Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. A million Okays. I simply cannot okay enough. Okay?

I've just discovered something quiet wonderful about Somewhere (surprisingly enough, capitol-S Somewhere, is _actually_ called Somewhere. By, like, everyone.). Somewhere has a quite brilliant mail system. See, I just walked up to the mailbox outside of my house, which I had never paid much attention to, and opened it up just to see if there was something in it. And there was. Four beautiful letters from you. I cherished every single word you wrote me, and I've read them so many times I've practically memorized them. Thank you for that.

Another brilliant thing about Somewhere; I can write you back. You're not going to get this letter in the same way that I got yours, word for word. But, you are going to get a _feeling_. For instance, if someone in Somewhere wrote a hate letter to someone living, that person would suddenly feel very hated. I hope to convey a feeling of love, so at some point you're going to feel immensely comforted and loved. You probably won't know where it came from, and guessing from you condition, your probably going to chalk it up to drugs. But it's not. It's me. Okay?

I'm very sorry that your therapist isn't a philosophical genius like you and me. I'm sorry that my death has affected you so much. It's not that I thought you would be totally fine with my death or anything, but I was hoping that you wouldn't take it so hard. I never wanted to hurt you like that, but I didn't really have a choice. Death may be an even bigger slut than Time. Time screws a selected few, but Death, Death screws absolutely everyone, and more than once.

Hearing about your coming death made me sort of feel like a dick. When I read your letter I felt happy, because I was thinking about you coming here, but not how you were going to do it. All I was hearing was, "I'll be joining you in capitol-S Somewhere," not, "I'm going to die." So I enjoyed a moment of pure bliss, before I remembered _how_ one gets to Somewhere, which of course, is by dying. I am so sorry your dying, but I am so happy your coming here. Sort of like how you're afraid to die, but you want to come here.

I want to assure you that dying is only bad in your head. No one has ever lived to tell the tale of dying, but it really isn't too bad. One day your living- and the next your not. But the thing is that you don't _feel_ any different. I feel just as alive here as I ever did on Earth. The only difference is in your head. Technically, I'm dead. But I _feel_ more alive than ever.

It's also not very painful. You can feel it coming. You're not hit by the Train Of Death, or slammed into a Brick Wall Of Death. It's more like walking away from life, not falling into death. As you walk, the people behind you become smaller and smaller, but your destination becomes bigger and bigger. And walking away is so much better, because you feel content knowing exactly when your last foot is in The Land of the Living. You're not on your toes, waiting for it, not knowing when The Train Of Death is stopping at your train station. You reach a point in the process of dying that you know living is not an option any more, so you just start your walk to death. Death may give you a slight shove at first, but once you start walking, you won't regret it. So take heed from a dead person, Hazel: When you feel it coming, start walking. Don't resist. I'll be waiting at the gates (not metaphorically, there are actual gates). Okay?

I love you. Thank you for your infinity. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay,

Augustus

P.S Okay


	6. Living

Dear Augustus,

The strangest thing happened today. I was sitting in the conference room, trying to tune out the Cancer Team Meeting, when I felt the strangest feeling. It surged through my chest, flooding me with warmth and love. It felt like every kiss we've ever shared and every comforting word you've ever given me all at once. I'm not a very religious person. But I can't help but feel you gave that to me. Okay?

The Cancer Team Meeting was bleak. They basically said the same things that I already know. I'm going to die. This year. My health is going to decline until my own shit lungs drown me. Then they started talking about treatment, that won't stop me from dying, but that will hopefully put it off a little bit longer.

I guess everything up to this point has been to put off my dying, but my death has never been so imminent. My first near death experience came rapidly and unexpectedly. After recovery, my death was expected, but we didn't know when. Now we know when I'm going to die, and that's a whole lot worse than the rapid decline in health. My Dad cried through the whole meeting. That was to be expected.

Cancer Perks are getting a lot better. Usually, Cancer Perks came along every once and a while, in small little ways. Now, they come big and obvious. After the first time I got sick, my parents changed the way they acted around me in small ways. They didn't mention dying, they always asked me if I needed help, and they hugged me goodnight _every_ night, no matter what. They've taken it to a whole new level. They hug me about every hour, on the hour. I don't think I've had to carry my oxygen tank upstairs in two weeks, since we found out Phalanxifor isn't working any more. My pillows are fluffed absolutely every single time I come into my room, and every night we have one of my favorite meals, with dessert. I love it because it makes my life great, but I hate it because it's a constant reminder that I only have a short time to enjoy the simplest things in life and that my parents only have a short time to enjoy the simplest things with me.

I don't want to talk about the fact that I'm getting weaker. I don't want to talk about the fact that walking up stairs makes me wheeze, and I can't stand for more than five minutes at a time. I don't want to talk about the fact that I take long naps every day, not because I want to, but because I'm too weak to do much else. I don't want to talk about those things.

I want to talk about the fact that yesterday I went to the zoo. I want to do those childish things, while I can. I tried not to think about the fact that it is most definitely my last time to see an elephant as it stretches its trunk up to reach for fruit in a bowl above its head. I just like to think about the fact that that elephant is going to keep on living, even when I don't, and it's going to keep making toddlers laugh. I sat in my wheelchair (I couldn't stand through the whole zoo) and watched little toddlers pointing their pudgy fingers at lions and zebras, yelling only slightly legible words, and laughing when the animals did normal animal things. I like they way that they were totally infatuated with an animal that could care less about them, just because it was soft and cute. I thought about how even when I died, those toddlers were going to keep on living, and growing up. And that made me happy. I might end, but the rest of the world will keep on living.

I had cotton candy at the zoo. I like the way the sugar looks as pieces of it are pulled apart from the other fluffy pieces. They stay together, until the very last sugar grain disconnects from the others. I like the way cotton candy melts on your tongue; it only lasts a second. Your mouth may not be closed all the way but the candy has all ready dissolved. I also got an oversized sweatshirt, because I get cold a lot, and an elephant stuffed animal, because I could.

You know that moment when you realize that a dream is a dream, and not reality. You suddenly have the ability to make conscious decisions, and manipulate your dreams to get a desired response. I keep waiting for that moment to come, but it never does. I keep waiting for that moment when I realize that Phalanxifor actually _is_ working, and the nightmare of my slow decline is just a dream. But that moment never comes. This is my life now. If I got business cards they would say, "Hazel Grace Lancaster, Professional Sick Person." Your death used to dictate my mind, but now both of our deaths are battling it out to be supreme dictator of my every thought. Some days I cry for you. And some days I cry for me. But most days I cry for us.

I love you. Thank you for our infinity. Okay, Okay, Okay,

Hazel Grace


	7. Smiling

Dear Augustus,

So maybe I'll be joining you a bit sooner than planned. Yesterday I was emitted into Children's at three in the morning with a pain very similar to the last time I was in the ICU, before we went to Amsterdam. A million firecrackers were being shot of in my head, bouncing around my skull and inflicting nothing but pain. Every movement to get to the hospital shot quivers of pain raking through my body.

Just like last time, I spent the entire ride to the hospital with my head on my mother's lap, as my Dad talked on the phone with the hospital.

Unlike last time, I didn't think about the fact that that night could very well have been my last one. Instead, I thought about you. I thought about what capitol-S Somewhere will be like. I thought about reuniting with you, and picking right back up where our infinity left off. I thought about drinking the stars with you, and eating food that will be nothing less than Oranjee status. I thought about us living in forever.

My PET scan results show that my lungs have, one again, filled with liquid, only this time, Dr. Maria can't get it out. So, they've estimated that I have about two weeks. Fourteen days. 336 hours. 20,160 minutes. 1,209,600 seconds.

I can already feel my self getting tired. This tired is different, because this tired only comes at the end. This tired is made for the dying, and not for the living. This tired will gently push me to the edge, but it won't shove me off; I have to jump on my own. This tiredness gives your body the power to shut down, the power to sleep, and the power to die.

Once, when I was three, I fell off the tree house in my old backyard. It was maybe ten feet up, but my head landed on the stump of a tree that we had to cut down, to make the tree house. It wasn't anything too severe; I just cut my lip open. I had to go to the E.R to have my lip stitched up.

Before they stitched me up, they gave my laughy gas, to calm me down. While we were waiting for the laughy gas to fully kick in, my Mom read me a Dr. Suess book, which was a ridiculous thing to read to a high three year old. I was pointing at the pictures and laughing insanely hard the whole time, while shouting out illegible three-year-old blubber.

That's sort of how I feel right now, in the hospital. I'm going to die, and there isn't much of a point to waste my last days sitting around and crying about it. So, I've gotten happy. My life is a rollercoaster that only goes up. It's a sugar high that never ends. So even though the tiredness dominates my every waking moment, I'm still smiling. I'm still happy, even if I'm tired. The small things make me laugh. Why not laugh? I'd rather my parents think I'm happy for my last days, than sitting around in my own river of tears. It may be slightly crazy, but it's working, and it's helping me except the hard stuff.

See you soon. Thank you for our infinity. I love you. Okay,

Hazel Grace


	8. Hey, Augustus

**A/N So, Hazel has died now, and she's in Somewhere. I'm not doing a last letter or anything, because I imagine Hazel being to weak to be able to write Augustus in her last days, and I don't think death really works like that, in giving anyone a chance to say goodbye. Enjoy!**

Hazel's POV

_Augustus Waters_

_4042 West Cloud St._

_Marietta Somewhere, 40062_

I look down at the slip of paper in my hand, and back up to the house in front of me. I glance at the mailbox with its neatly painted numbers, 4042. I nervously run a hand through my now-long hair, thinking of what I'm going to say to Augustus when I see him.

_Hey, what's up?_

_Okay._

_I missed you?_

_Wow! Nice to see you again! You've really…..grown into your skin?_

Nothing seems good enough to say. I love Augustus, present tense, and words can't really express the pain I've felt without him. There needs to be a word in Somewhere to say to your dead loved ones. A word that will express everything I'm feeling right now. A word to say, _I love you, I missed you, and I am so excited to see you, _all at once.

Augustus's house is small and old fashioned, with a wraparound porch on the front, and a small upstairs. It's painted a subtle yellow, with white shudders. His small lawn has an ancient oak tree, the kind of tree that's made for climbing and a little white picket fence.

I take a deep breath as I smooth out nonexistent wrinkles on my dress, and step forward onto the little path leading to his door. My shoes click on the rocks that make up the path, and I notice the newest Counterinsurgence book tucked into a nook in the oak tree. I can imagine Augustus sitting up there with a glass of water, reading with a cigarette tucked between his teeth.

I nervously take the two steps onto his porch, noticing that none of the paint on his white porch is peeling. Augustus keeps his home in order.

I stand on the light blue mat in front of the door, glancing down at it and laughing as I realize that it's an Encouragement; _Home is where the heart is._

I glance at the doorbell nervously, and it occurs to me that Augustus might not be home. That thought takes over my mind for a moment, before I build up the guts to rind the doorbell_. This is Augustus, not the mafia_, I tell myself.

I take a step back as I hear the sound of claws sliding against wood and then the sound of scratching on the door. Augustus's dog barks furiously, and I see the edges of its brown ears in the tiny window along the side of Augustus's door.

"Isaac! Shut up!" My heart flutters as I hear Augustus's voice.

He's here.

He's really here.

"Just a second!" Augustus hollers through the door, and I hear the sound him opening the lock on the door, mixed with Isaac's mad barking.

The door opens, and there Augustus stands, just as handsome as I remember him. His hair is messy, his shirt is wrinkled, and his jeans are just a bit too long, but it's him. The muscles in his arms are tense as he holds Isaac, a massive German Sheppard, from bounding out the door.

"Hey, Augustus." I say stupidly, my eyes flickering nervously between the ground and Augustus's gaping face.

"Hazel Grace." Augustus's voice catches, and he throws his strong arms around me, letting go of Isaac's collar.

"Okay." I whisper, standing on my tiptoes to reach Augustus's ear, clasping my hands around his neck and holding him close. I inhale his Augustus scent, a feel his muscles pressed against my body. He is no longer a dying cancer kid. He is whole again. His arms are muscular around me, and I can feel his two real legs against mine.

His warmth envelopes me, and it isn't until he breaks away that I realize that I have tears streaming down my face and so does he.

"I love you, Hazel Grace." He grins his gorgeous crooked smile through his tears and leans down to kiss me.

This kiss has no slow progression; it goes from zero to ten. Our kiss is a mix of lips, tears, and dog hair, as Isaac furiously barks and jumps up on us, trying to break us apart.

We lose our balance as Isaac jumps onto us, one massive paw on each of our bodies, and fall into the doorframe, still holding each other. Augustus keeps his balance, and we continue to kiss against the doorframe, until Isaac jumps on us again. This time we have nowhere to fall, and slam into the porch.

I roll off of Augustus, and onto the white painted ground. I groan, rubbing my shoulder and my thigh. I grin at Augustus, who wears a groggy expression as he rubs his hand on his head, messing up his hair even more. I can't help but burst out laughing, rolling onto my stomach as my abdomen tenses. "Thanks a lot, Isaac." Augustus mutters to Isaac, who stands over us, looking incredibly smug for a dog. I grin at Augustus, and he bursts out laughing too.

"How've you been, Augustus?" I say, grinning at him as my laughter subsides.

He gives me a lopsided smile, still rubbing his head. "A lot better, now that you're here."

"I've missed you so much." I sigh, not making a move to get up off his porch, but instead moving my body up against Augustus's.

"Amen." Augustus grins, his minty breath warm against my skin.

"Okay."

"Okay."


	9. Forever

**A/N Okay, so I know that I said the story was over, but with all the TFIOS movie stuff going on I wanted to go back to writing for my favorite book, but I didn't want to start something new. And you guys had asked me to continue with this, so I am. Picks up on the same day as the last chapter. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer- I don't own any rights to The Fault In Our Stars by the brilliant, amazing, hilarious, John Green. DFTBA.**

**Disclaimer- I also don't own the rights to the poem by Pablo Neruda, Wind On The Island.**

"Hazel Grace, I want to welcome you to Forever." Augustus grins.

I look around the town square, smiling at the simplicity of it all. To my left is a line of shops- a post office, a bakery, a candy store, and a diner. Directly in front of me is a square of grass with a pavilion in the center, wooden benches and flowerbeds scattered around the edges. Just beyond that lies an old fashioned movie theater advertising the newest addition to the Counterinsurgence franchise, The Price Of Dawn Movie. To my right is a general store with a boutique right next to it. It looks like a scene directly out of a movie; everything is pristine, yet somehow normal.

"I could get used to this." I smile as I enter the square's mini park, leaning on Augustus as we take a seat on one of the benches.

"So how do things work here? I mean….what is this place?" I ask, gesturing around the town.

"It's Forever!" A girl appears in front of us, her smile just a bit too peppy. Her hair is long and bright blonde, as if she just stepped off a beach in California. She wears a loose pink blouse over her jeans and cowboy boots. She's pretty, with her bright blue eyes and curvy figure.

"Hi, I'm Isa, like Isabella, just no Bella!" Isa explains cheerily, making herself comfortable on the bench next to me. I scoot away from Augustus a bit so that she doesn't feel awkward, not that she's the type to feel awkward. She's clearly the social butterfly type, the kind I'm never quite comfortable around. They always seemed to ignore the tiniest awkward things, such as my oxygen tanks. Things like that just became taboo in their eyes.

"Hazel." I hold my hand out to her and she shakes it firmly.

"I know! We've all been waiting for you! You're even prettier than Augustus said." Isa exclaims happily. I must look confused, because she quickly adds to her statement. "You're all Augustus talks about." She explains, nodding at Augustus, who is still glowing with happiness.

"Oh." I force a smile onto my face, but honestly I just want to be alone with Augustus.

"I'm sorry, this must all be really confusing." Isa suddenly stands up, giving us an apologetic face. "I'll let you two catch up, but I'll see you later, Hazel." She gives me another smile before bouncing away.

"Isa is very…..happy." I say when she's out of earshot.

"Yeah. She is." Augustus laughs.

"So back to Forever." Augustus pauses as if he is contemplating how to word things. "You'll find that it's much of the same as your old life. You'll still have to get a job in a couple of years. Things like that are the same, but a lot is different too. Like, you have to work but there is no more money. Everyone does there job, so there is no need for currency. Also, you aren't going to age anymore. You are at the age you were happiest at in the Land Of The Living, so that's why you look the same." Augustus explains.

"I was happiest in the months I was with you." I nod.

"Exactly." Augustus grins and pecks me on the cheek. "Second, this is the biggie, you can't die _again_." He smirks. "No more cancer." He smiles genuinely.

"Good." I grin.

"You can't get sick anymore, but you can still get hurt. I mean, not seriously, but it's still going to hurt when you stub your toe." Augustus says.

"Damn! I thought that was the perk of beating it from cancer! No more toe stubbing!" I feign anger.

"Some things are existential." Augustus sighs dramatically. "So, yeah, you can get hurt but you can't die." He returns to his explanation of live in death. "Third. Another biggie: where we are. This is supposed to be an all American town or whatever. There are maybe three hundred or so of us here, so you'll get to know everyone pretty quickly." Augustus explains.

As if to prove this, Augustus nods at a little boy passing by. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey Gus." The boy smiles back.

"You live in the place that you would be happiest. So if you loved the city, that's where you would live. You can travel to other places to visit other people, especially family members." He continues.

"When did all these people die?" I interrupt.

"What do you mean?" Augustus pauses.

"I mean, are there people here from, like, the twelfth century here?" I ask.

"Oh." Augustus acknowledges the question. "No, everyone here died within the past twenty years. But if you wanted to see someone who died later than that, again, you can travel to go see them." Augustus adds.

"So, em, there's on more thing." Augustus stops. "Your family….." Augustus pauses again.

"Yes?" I ask eagerly. "Is there a way to see them?" I ask excitedly.

"Yes." Augustus says slowly. "But, Hazel Grace, I would wait. You can watch your family, but you can't interact with them. And a lot of people can't take it. They become addicted to watching their families, like a drug. It's a dangerous thing to start doing, especially when your just getting used to this all," Augustus gestures around, "And they're grieving, too. You don't want to watch your family like that. I mean, even I haven't looked through yet." Augustus looks at me deeply; his bright blue eyes an ocean.

"Oh." I look away and focused on a blade of grass. I last saw my parents at my funeral, yesterday. I was like a ghost there, sitting in the back pew and listening to epilogues.

Isaac told of my love for Augustus.

My mom told of my kindness and 'thirst for knowledge.'

My dad spoke of my bravery through a curtain of tears.

Kaitlyn told how loved I was.

It was painful and awful and I don't ever want to think or speak of it again. I'm happy right now, finally with Augustus, but its not how I thought it would be. I never took the time to consider how much I would miss my family. I knew that they would miss me, that I was a grenade, but I didn't think about the long wait I had before they would join me here, in Somewhere.

Augustus puts his strong arm around me and rests his head on mine. "I know that this is difficult, but I'm here for you. Okay?" He says into my hair.

I nod, afraid of what will happen if I speak.

* * *

Augustus's POV

"What smells so good?" Hazel Grace asks, entering the kitchen and sliding into one of the chairs around the little round table. She wears one of my t-shirts, which goes down to her knees, and a pair of my boxer shorts. She hasn't had a chance to go shopping yet, but my clothes look good on her. She would look beautiful in anything.

Her hair is long again, which is gorgeous, but no less gorgeous than when she had short hair. She has it pulled up into a high, sloppy, ponytail that looks adorable on her.

"Pancakes." I turn around and flip one onto her plate.

"Mmm." She smiles as she reaches to the center of the table for the butter.

"You'll find that I am skilled in many areas, yet I lack cooking skills. It's truly my hamartia. Thus, breakfast for dinner." I slide into the seat next to her and begin to butter my own pancakes.

"I don't know if I can be with you anymore." Hazel shakes her head, but she's smiling. That may be the thing I've missed most about her. Her smile.

"I'm so sorry." I sigh and pretend to wipe a tear from under my eye.

"I suppose I can stay with you if- ISAAC!" Hazel jumps back from the table as Isaac jumps up, his huge front paws landing on the table.

His head snaps down to takes Hazel's pancake, but he's too heavy and the table begins to lean forward to his weight. Isaac jumps back in the last second before the table flips onto its side. The plates clatter over, including the butter dish and little syrup pitcher.

Hazel Grace stands in the corner of the kitchen looking guilty, despite the fact that it's in no way her fault.

"Isaac!" I grab Isaac's collar to take him to the back door. I close the door firmly behind him and watch as he begins to bound around the backyard, not a care in the world. And I thought German Sheppards were supposed to be smart.

"I'm sorry." I turn back to Hazel Grace guiltily. So much for a nice dinner.

"It's not your fault." She gives me a small smile as she bends over to flip the table upright. "Okay?" She looks back up at me expectantly when I don't respond.

"Okay." I return her smile.

"Okay." She takes a step closer to me, her voice flirty.

"Okay." I take another step to her, and just like that we're in each other's arms. I kiss her and she kisses me and my heart beats like never before, because kissing her right now feels like we were never separated.

She moves forward suddenly, farther into my arms, and moves her lips up to my ear. "Do you know what you do to me?" She whispers.

She doesn't allow me to respond, but instead reached down and grabs my hand. She brings it up to her chest and places it over her heart. I can feel her rapidly beating heart against my hand, her heart moving at the same speed mine is.

"I have missed you so much." She whispers.

"And I have been waiting so long." I reply, moving back a bit so that I can see her eyes. Light streams in from the kitchen window, making her green eyes even brighter. They are flecked with hazel, but only in perfect lighting, like this.

She leans forward and rests her head on my chest. "Don't ever leave me again." She murmurs.

"I will never leave you. Okay?" I tighten my hold around her.

"Okay." She whispers.

Hazel's POV

"I've set up a bedroom for you." Augustus opens a door and walks in. I pause before entering, unsure of what the sleeping situation is going to be. I don't know if Augustus wants us to sleep in the same bed, or if I'm supposed to ask him, or what.

I enter the room, happy to find that Augustus has set it up perfectly for my taste. The walls are a cheery yellow, but not obnoxiously so. In the night they give off a warm glow to the whole room. The room is small- the upstairs of the house is tiny- but it's cozy. My queen size bed fills most of the room, and it's covered in a tasteful Anthropologie quilt. I have a nice wood desk and a matching wooden bookshelf on the other wall. Augustus has even filled the bookshelf with books, making me wonder just how long he spent on this.

"Thank you!" I grin, flopping onto the bed and sinking into the mattress. I hadn't realized how tired I was.

I turn to my side and realize that Augustus has even placed a copy of _An Imperial Affliction_ on the bedside table. "You're amazing." I shake my head in awe as I pick up the copy, flipping through it quickly.

"I know." Augustus smirks and gives a full body shrug, something distinctly Augustian.

"Well." I sigh, yet again unsure of what comes next.

"Yeah." Augustus sticks his hands in his pockets and leans against the wall.

We share a moment of awkward silence, and when it seams like Augustus isn't going to say anything, I try to paste over the awkwardness. "Well, goodnight?" I say meekly.

"Yeah, I guess." Augustus coughs. "Goodnight."

I stand and give Augustus an only somewhat awkward hug, standing on my tippy toes to reach his ears. "Okay." I whisper.

"Okay." He whispers back, and just like that, he's gone.

I slowly walk over to the light switch and flip it off, before taking the one step back to my bed. I crawl under the soft covers, burying my head in the pillows and shutting my heavy eyes.

Only, I don't sleep. I'm exhausted, but my body refuses to sleep. I twist and turn, glancing at the clock every five minutes expecting to see that an hour has passed.

I flip on the lamp on the table and try to read _AAI_ but my eyes are too heavy and the words blur together. I place the book back on the table and return to failing to sleep.

I wish Augustus were here. I feel alone.

And with that thought, tears begin to stream down my face. I am so happy to be with Augustus again- I really am. He is the one thing that made dying more than okay; he made me almost look forward to it. Only, lying here in bed, I am hit with the realization that while I have Augustus, I don't have anyone else.

I don't have my Mom, my best friend beside Augustus. I don't have my Dad, who despite his waterworks, had strokes of pure brilliance. I don't have Isaac to exchange mutual sighs with, or Kaitlyn to fawn of _America's Next Top Model _with. I even _almost_ miss Patrick.

I can't see any of them anymore. Not for a long time. I won't see my parents for _at least_ another twenty years, and it'll be another fifty or sixty years before I can see Isaac or Kaitlyn again.

Everything is overwhelming me in waves of hurt and loneliness. Tears stream down my face, wetting the carefully sewn pillow. I take deep breaths, but each time I think I've got it under control new tears begin to fall.

I sit up in the bed and pull my knees up to my chest, resting my head on them and allowing myself to feel the pain I put off all day. I think back to what Augustus said earlier in the park; that he will always be here for me. I am not alone.

Shaking, I move to the edge of the bed and stand up. I swipe my hands under my eyes, wiping the cold tears away. I shakily walk to the door, my feet sinking into the plush carpet of the room.

The door opens with a creek and I take the few steps down the hallway, feeling bare without the warmth of my blankets.

I reach Augustus's door but don't knock. I don't want to wake him; I just want to be beside him.

I can't see much of what his room is like in the dark, but I can see that its set up in the same way that mine is. His bed is only a step away. I crawl across it from the front, moving to the side of his body and crawling under the covers.

"Hazel Grace?" Augustus turns, and I am surprised that his eyes are wide open. He was never asleep.

"Gus." I murmur, snuggling my body up against his. He turns to me and wraps his strong arms around me, pressing my body to his chest.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep." I whisper, embarrassed that speaking brings another wave of tears. They soak into his t-shirt, but Augustus doesn't comment.

"Oh, Hazel, I'm so sorry. I left you alone on your first night." Augustus apologizes, his breath close to me, warming the top of my head.

"I miss them." I say through a choked voice.

"I know. I know." Augustus soothes me, rubbing little circles on my back.

"It's not fair that we should have to be here without them." I sob, finally letting my tears flow freely.

"It's not." Augustus agrees. "But we've got each other. We may not have everyone, but we _are not_ alone." Augustus says with great intensity.

"Thank you." I whisper, pressing my head even farther against him. It's amazing how I can instantly feel better from just being near him.

"The wind is a horse:

hear how he runs.

through the sea, through the sky." Augustus begins to recite one of my favorite poems. I melt in his arms.

"He wants to take me: listen

how he roves the world

to take me far away." Augustus continues, his voice soft and soothing.

I join him in the next verse, our voices blending together, his a strong rock and mine a trembling wisp.

"Hide me in your arms

just for this night,

while the rain breaks

against sea and earth

its innumerable mouth."

I continue on with Augustus, blinking tears out of my eyes.

"Listen how the wind

calls me galloping

to take me far away.

With your brow on my brow," with that line I look up to Augustus, our foreheads meeting so that we can look in each other's eyes.

"With your mouth on my mouth," Augustus lightly presses his lips to mine before continuing.

"Our bodies tied

to the love that consumes us,

let the wind pass

and not take me away.

Let the wind rush

crowned with foam,

let it call to me and seek me

galloping in the shadow,

while I, sunk

beneath your big eyes,

just for this night

shall rest, my love." We finish. I press my lips to Augustus's again before sinking back into his arms.

"I love you." He gently presses his lips to my forehead.

"And I love you." I whisper softly.

Warmth surrounds me as I fall asleep in his arms.


	10. Faultless

A/N I'm actually really proud of this, so yeah. It's probably the best thing I've written for this story, so please review at the end. It's a letter from Hazel to her mom, and I'll get back to the story in the next chapter.

* * *

Dear Mom,

Life and stars and are a lot alike. They're all intertwined, connected. Parts of each cross each other time after time; bending and twisting to come together and form something quite extraordinary.

Yet what forms something so extraordinary is also faulted. Everything has a cost, and the cost of such beautifully intertwined things is great. When so many things cross they tend to become affected. The midnight sky forever changed by one star. Lives changed eternally from two paths crossing.

See, here's the thing. Some of those crossings are inevitable. No entity is great enough to move the stars, to stop them from forming. And you being my mother- no one could change that even if they wanted to. Our paths cross no matter what exponents you insert into the equation. My battle against myself was going to affect you no matter what.

Yet, there are other crossings that we choose to make. The universe allows us to connect the stars and form constellations. We allow ourselves to not just walk beside someone, but to walk _with_ someone.

The universe allowed me to meet Augustus, but it was the two of us who decided to allow our paths to cross.

And because of that the stars were forever changed. We made a new constellation- a twisting, bending, faulted work of art. A mix of scars and tears and pain, yet a concoction of love and passion and infiniteness.

I love Augustus.

And while our stars have moved on to a different realm, I recognize the fact that light from our stars is still traveling to you. The light from our sun is already eight minutes old when it reaches us, but I have a feeling that our light will still be reaching earth for a long time to come.

And because of that, I want you to know that I'm okay. For the longest time I thought that my war against the things I was composed of would end in oblivion. You were born, you grew old, and you died. That was it. You died, and eventually everyone who knew you died, and you would sink into the void of everyone who has ever lived and died.

But Augustus, he was so optimistic. He believed in Somewhere with a capitol S. He didn't think we could visit the dead like ghosts or anything, but he believed we have souls, and that something became of those souls.

And while he believed in a future past death, he still feared oblivion. Unlike me, he viewed oblivion as something different from death. Oblivion wasn't death itself; it was what remained when you were gone. He wanted to be remembered. Oblivion was the moment when he was forgotten- when all of his scars faded away.

We were different like that. Augustus's first prognosis was eighty five percent curable. It was easy to remain optimistic in the possibility of a life after this one. But my last chapter was written the day my prognosis was revealed. How could I remain faithful to a universe that had chosen to kill me so young?

But things changed for both of us when our paths crossed. Augustus became sick again, and because he knew he would die, it would have been easy for him to loose faith like I had. But things were different for both of us this time. We had each other.

We were young, and we were sick, but we were also in love.

Augustus changed me. He convinced me of a world greater than the one we used to occupy. A world where paths crossed, but only good things came of it. Where constellations filled the night sky, but not a single of them had a fault. Where the fault in our stars was only a memory of a different world.

We were both dying; nothing had changed for me from that perspective. But I had a new hope. Augustus and my love would not end. I was sure the day that he died that I would join him again. Things as beautiful and pure as our love can't just end- I couldn't allow myself to believe that.

The universe is a rather deceptive creature. Like a setting sun to new eyes, she allows us to believe that darkness will swallow us whole, that there is nothing beyond our last breath. She never hinted that the sun would rise again in the morning.

Who knows how different the world you live in would be if we all had the assuredness of Augustus. The absolute conviction of a world beyond our own.

Until the day you die you don't know the infinity just beyond the horizon.

But I want you to know that it exists, and that here we are all whole again. I have been given an entirely new infinity, one unbound by evolution, one to enjoy with Augustus. I know that you'll grieve, because I know that the light of our constellation is still reaching you, but I _need_ you to know that I'm okay.

Forever has embraced me with open arms.

And just like that, our stars are faultless.

Love,

Hazel Grace Lancaster

**A/N Please review!**


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